HOTD Ireland
by Bandman2000
Summary: When the undead rise around the world, everyone got caught up in the panic and death. See how a group of survivors can handle themselves in this terrifying new world
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own HOTD**

Hey all, So This is going to be an OC adventure, so please send me as many as you can. I really have no limit on who i will accept or how many, so keep 'em coming. and yes i will accept multiple submissions from people.

A little about this story and me. Well i already tried to write a HOTD fix before, but kinda wrote myself into a corner and lost inspirations, so I'm going to give it another go. This Fic will be taking place in Ireland. More Specifically the fictional city of Rolling Hills (I'm hoping thats fictional). Your OC's can be from anywhere and have done anything and be any age. I really want a diverse cast, so be creative. So now, with no further delays…..

My OC. Ives Avery. Is 5'6" 135 lbs. He is very physically fit. He always wears a grey zip up hoodie over a plain black t-shirt, with blue jeans and a pair of red converse. He has shaggy red hair that goes just over his eyes. He has a set of piercing blue eyes.

Rolling Hills, Ireland. This was home to young Ives Avery. Ives had been born and raised in this bustling city. He had been born with a caring mother and father, and even had two younger brothers.

That was a long time ago though. Ireland has been a nation divided and sadly, so now was Ives and his family. When Ives was a young man, not even 15 yet, his mother was taken from him. The very woman who had taught him to be kind, respectful, and remorseful was taken from him by a british solder in a firefight with the IRA.

There had been apologies, cards, and money from England, but it didn't mean anything to Ives and his family. They had lost the one woman that meant the world to all of them. Thus began the decline of the Avery clan.

Ives and his brothers took an active role in their local IRA cell. They learned to fight. They wanted revenge. The kind caring boys they had been had died the day their mother's heart had stopped beating. They learned how to shoot, hide, fight, and Ives' favorite activity. Build Bombs.

Ives was a natural with explosives. His brothers referred to him as an artist working with his medium. The analogy stuck well with him. Soon he earned a nickname among not only his IRA brothers, but the British soldiers he hated so much. The Artist.

Ives' father, all through this, drank. He lost himself the day he lost his wife, and he never found himself again. When his son's left him to find their own bloody and violent path to dealing with their mother's death, he stood aside and let them.

Now we find ourselves three years down the road. Ives and his two brothers are out, planning a bombing of a british run police station. Everything seemed to go smoothly. They had picked out the perfect locations and types of bombs to use to maximize carnage. No sooner had they returned home however, than the police had burst into their home.

The next few minutes flew by in a haze for Ives. Gunshots, screams, and an explosion. When all had settled, things were far worse than Ives could have imagined.

When the police had entered, they had gone in guns blazing, and accidentally struck some supplies he used for bombs. The resulting explosion incinerated three of the five officers that had entered as well as Ives' brothers.

Now, Ives, at age 18. The feared Artist himself. was alone. trapped in a jail cell by his most hated enemy. He stared ahead and plotted. Not just his escape but his revenge.

Too bad things wouldn't go according to his plan. too bad indeed…..

So now it's your guys turn. Send me some really fun OC's. be very specific with them. I want an age, name, country of origin. and history. PLease be specific in their history. I want to know everything about them, including how they got to Rolling Hills and why they would be at the police station to start things off.

Thanks and until next time, See ya!


	2. Chapter 2

**I Do Not Own HOTD**

Ives Avery sat in his single jain cell in Rolling Hill's Downtown police station. He was not surprised they had chosen to move him here. It was the single largest British operations center for the Rolling Hills area. And as such, it was the worst place in the world for him to be right now.

Ives was and still is the IRA's most valuable explosives expert. Now he was a dead man walking. He was sure they would make an example of him. A public execution or something of the sort.

'Damn assholes think they can just walk in and do what they want' Ives thought to himself as he sat in his cell, plotting his escape. 'What i need, are some cleaning supplies…..hmmm…this can work….'

As Ives sat in his cell, staring at the wall planning how he would obtain the means to his escape, he heard the door to the cell block open loudly. While this was a large station, it had a surprisingly small containment area, just 8 cells, and the large communal area reserved for the drunks to sober up in. So you always knew when someone came or left.

A british MP came in 'escorting' a young woman, around Ives' age. After throwing her rather roughly into the cell, he just left the looked the delinquent type to Ives. She had piercings all up her ears, a nose ring on the right side of her nose, and snakebite piercings on her bottom lip. On top of that, she had choppy black hair with purple tips. She only stood at about 5 ft, and had a small frame, but was by no means un attractive. She had pale skin and seemed really uninterested in Ives after casting a glance in his direction when she first walked stunning blues eyes caught Ives' attention for a minute, before her returned to staring at the wall in silence to plan his escape.

Several minutes passed before either of them spoke. Ives being the first to break the silence.

"Do you want out of here?" was all he said, slowly shifting his glance towards the girl as he spoke.

She looked at him, and eyed him from top to bottom before she responded.

"How?" she simply asked.

"I don't want to bore you with the details, but trust me i can get us out." was Ives' response.

The girl rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall in her cell again.

"If you can pull it off big shot, then by all means i would love to get out of here." the girl replied, not believing Ives could make it out.

Ives smiled and stood up in his cell,

"Then be prepared to watch an artist at work miss." Ives said before abruptly throwing up in his cell.

"EEWW" the girl groaned out, 'great' she though 'another nut job, could her day get any worse?'

The sound of Ives vomiting, brought a guard in who, upon seeing the mess, groaned loudly.

"Now wait sir" Ives cut in "I am terribly sorry about this mess, and would like to extend the courtesy to clean it up myself. I am sure you are busy with whatever police business you have to attend to, and all I am doing is sitting here. I might as well do something productive right?"

the guard considered this for a moment, looked at his watch and nodded.

"Fine, at least i won't have to do it" the guard stated, in an irritated voice. "I'll send in the new guy to give you the stuff to clean with"

And with that the guard turned and left abruptly.

'child's play' Ives thought to himself 'now comes the easy part.'

A few minutes passed in silence, with the girl staring at Ives expectantly.

"That's your great plan? What? Vomit and hope they open your cell?" She said sarcastically.

"Now look here miss" Ives began "While it may not look like it, I can think and plan. So when I say I can get us out, I mean it. I have a set of skills that can help, provided I can get the right materials." Ives finished, casting a glare at the girl for doubting him. "By the way, my name is Ives may know me by my nickname, The Artist"

"Never heard of ya" the girl shot back lazily. "I'm Alex Grimm, ever heard of me?"

"Seriously!? You've never heard of me? What have you been living under a rock for the last few years miss?!" Ives shot back. "I'm The Artist, the famous IRA bomber…..any bells?" Ives asked, still dumbfounded the girl had never heard of him.

"No, my mom and I have bee non America for a few year however. Didn't really keep up on new back home here." Alex replied nonchalantly.

Before Ives could formulate a clever enough reply to the girl, the door to the cell block area opened once more. This time a young man around their age came in, pushing a cart filled with cleaning supplies with an attached mop and bucket.

The young man was wearing dark blue jeans, a green t-shirt, blue running shoes, and a black fencing jacket. He had what appeared to be a fencing helmet worn like a hood, a pair of gloves on and wore gloves. But the most prominent aspect of him was his dual fencing sabers. They looked to be different styles. One was longer, bigger and looked heavier, while the other was smaller, but looked sharper and easier to maneuver. He was also carrying a MP5KSD slung over his back.

'well, well, well….i wonder…' Ives thought to himself before the new man spoke.

"So you actually want to clean up after yourself? Good, not like anyone else has much time around here. Strange calls coming in all day so far." As the young man spoke, he seemed to lose himself in though. Something was bothering him.

"Thats just me sir" Ives responded, taking advantage of the man's distracted nature at the moment "don't want to be too much of a burden, just want to get out of here soon. care to let me out so i can get the stuff i need?" Ives finished, ready for his plan to finally come together.

"Well fine then" the young man said as he seemed to shake himself back to reality "give me a second and….."

But before the young officer could finish, there was a scream from outside and gunfire.

"What the Hell!?" was the young officer's response. He darted from the room.

"FUCK! GET BACK HERE!" Ives shouted at the fleeing figure. "DAMNIT! i almost had it…" Ives finished before he leaned back against a a wall of his cell. contemplating how to get to the supply cart just mere feet away from him.

That was until it happened.

The door to the containment area flung open.

A male officer in uniform fell back into the room, and a female citizen fell on him. As soon as they hit the floor, the citizen bit the officer. The girl sunk her teeth in hard and the officer screamed.

Ives stared in horror as the girl next to him started, disgust and worry playing across her face for a second, before being replaced with indifference once more.

Just as the girl was about to take another bite to the officer, a shot rang out. and a small hole appeared in her forehead.

The girl slumped over and then the young man from before with the swords came in. He crouched down and examined the injured officer, shaking his head before shooting him in the head as well with his MP5.

"FUCK MAN! HE WAS ONE OF YOU!" Ives shouted, a little appalled but the lack of loyalty he witnessed.

"Not after that bite he wasn't…." The young man replied.

"Who are you?" asked Alex.

"My name is Phil Angelo. Look, before we go any further i need to know. Why were you two here? and can I trust you?" As Phil finished, he cast a look over his shoulder, almost expecting something to jump out at him.

Things were getting weird, but they might just work out for Ives if he played his cards right….

**THERE! Finally finished one chapter. Please please please read and review. let me know how well, or poorly i did. And be on the look out for the next update. should come out faster than this one. Till then. take care.**


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